I think I have a bit of insight into why so many maritimers pine for their home.
We were both a bit sad to leave, Alison and I.
Every photo is a bit of a cliche – like all those calendar pictures we have seen over the years. You know, the ones the bank gives away, with the shots of Peggy’s Cove. For someone from “away” these scenes are a bit unreal. Take my word, it is rather wonderful to be walking here. A calendar photo doesn’t come close, no matter how skilled, in conveying the size of the sky and the taste of the wind.
When you’ve spent all your time on the west side of the continent, a walk on the east side has such novelty. Even the trees are just a bit different, as is the underbrush. Light and air get through, and bursts of bird song was our accompaniment through the woods. What a treat to be informed, on one of our walks, that we had passed through a grove of sugar maples.
Our cottage is one of the little white specks on the point. We went to the viewpoint on Smokey Point, just to say we did.
This was a little guy we met at one of the hot tourist attractions. How to tell you aren’t in the big city anymore – a yarn shop with sheep attached. Purchases may have been made.